One step at a time

Two weeks ago, I was in great shape for the Nike Half Marathon. Unfortunately, I started a pace group too slow and the race was too crowded to catch up to where I wanted to be. So, I called it training run for today's half marathon.

Unfortunately, life called a few times over the past few weeks, and made sure that I was not in the best physical shape for today. I was short on miles and sleep, and long on work, stress, bad food, and various other debaucherous activities that take their toll on the old body. Knowing how poorly prepared I was, part of me considered giving up on the run altogether. I could use the time to do some much needed studying or finishing up the journal responsibilities I promised to do before I can officially resign.

But, I'd committed to doing this race, I wanted to run across the Golden Gate Bridge and back, and I'd already paid for the privilege. So, yesterday, bright and early I made the final decision: I drove to and from San Francisco to pick up my race packet. If I was willing to do that, driving up to run the race was a sure thing.

So, in the spirit of making sacrifices for my goals, last night, I left E and friends at 9 PM after pounding water galore and "carb-loading" on a beer, hamburger, calamari, french fries, some of M's nachos and a salad. The server at the pub loved me and my constant, "could I please have another glass of water when you get a moment?"

Today, at 5:40 AM, I woke, stumbled into my running gear and drove to San Francisco on auto-pilot while drinking a gatorade. I arrived about 15 minutes before the race started, parked the car, put on my chip, bib, and garmin, and jogged to the start. In a bit of foreshadowing, I had the good fortune to be one of the very last people to get to use the porta-johns before the start -- it was already looking like I may just be lucky.

My plan was to shoot for my original goal of clearing the 2 hour mark, which meant that I needed to average about 9m10s miles. I figured I'd be consistently slower than that for the first 5 or 6 miles, I'd do the math, realize how fast I'd need to run to make up the lost time, and set a new, more reasonable goal on the course.

Mile 1 went as suspected: I finished warming up, and completed a 9:32 mile. 22 seconds to make up. Mile 2, however, surprised me at 9:05. "Huh," I thought, "only 17 seconds behind..." I didn't consciously speed up, but the chance of actually meeting my goal must have encouraged me, because I ran 8:51 for mile 3. And, there I was, 2 seconds ahead. All I had to do was maintain 9:10 minute miles for the next 10.1 miles and I'd have done it.

Thanks to the spitting fog, I wasn't that hot. Thanks to the short mileage weeks, my legs were fresh. And thanks to some decent downhills and the excitement at the prospect of running over the bridge for the first time, I didn't even realize that I sped up again to finish mile 4 at 8:35.

From wednesday's workout, I knew that pace was barely sustainable for 4 miles, so I had to slow up if I wanted to finish. My legs were happy for the slower pace, and it turned out, so was I: as I was slowly jogging along, R, a friend I used to work with and hadn't seen in over 1.5 years passed me. We stayed together and caught up for a nice 9:26 mile 5 and 9:41 mile 6.

R wanted to walk, so we parted ways, and refreshed, I ran mile 7 at 8:52. I met another runner, J, at this point, because he also was shooting for sub-2-hours, and he liked the pace I was keeping. We ran together for what my watch claims was a 6:50 mile 8 (I'm suspicious and will verify against the chip results when they are out), and an 8:57 mile 9 (more like what I expected).

Somewhere around mile 10, I really started to focus and J disappeared. The running faster thing really takes a toll on your legs. While they were fresh, they were also unused to long distances, and had never gone this far, this fast. I found that it took quite a bit of concentration to keep the pace I'd set as my goal. My body truly did want to slow down. But, I was so close to actually meeting my goal, that despite my failure to maintain my training, I somehow found the force of will to push my legs. I sustained myself with alternating thoughts 1) encouraging: almost there now, and 2) good-old-fashioned-reality-sucks: the marathon will be so much more difficult than this, so I'd better suck it up and get used to pushing myself if I plan to finish.

It worked. Mile 10, 8:58. Still on track. Somewhere in mile 11, people around me started grunting out loud. Thankfully, I've done that before when I've been pushing myself through intervals, so it didn't scare me. But it did make me realize how gross I must sound.

Occasionally, someone with a ton of juice would blaze past me. Slowly, I was passing some of the grunters, and a few of those who'd been keeping pace. We were all looking straight ahead, focused, and breathing hard. My watch beeped and I realized that I'd finish mile 11 in 8:42. I was surprised. Given how hard I had to work for the 8:58 on Mile 10, I figured I'd just keep getting slower for the rest of the race. But hey, no complaints here.

And then, I only had 2.1 miles left. I looked at my watch and realized I had 22 minutes to finish if I was going to meet my goal. I thought of the Nike race and how I had so much energy left at the end that I finished the last two miles in 15m13s. I knew that was not happening with these 2 miles. This was the hardest I'd ever run 11 miles and my legs were burning. I thought, "this must be what they mean when they say don't race too often because it takes too much of a toll on your body..."

I decided to shoot for finishing in 21 minutes. "10-minute miles," I told myself. "Just two ten-minute miles and you can stop." Like most things, deciding you can do it is more difficult than doing it. So, I actually ran mile 12 at 9:01 and mile 13 at 8:51. I even had enough to sprint the last bit at a 7:19 pace.

They announced my name, I crossed the finish line, and I wanted to cry, partially because my legs hurt, but also because I was so impressed with my mind over matter. Next time, I'll be in better shape, I swore to myself. Happily, I limped away with my medal and the memory of the 1:57 on the timer as I crossed the finish line.

Now, I'm home and need to hit the books. But before I did, I wanted to write about this because I've been so overwhelmed lately that I'd forgotten how amazing it feels to accomplish something that I'd set my mind to do. I need to remember that I should be honest with myself about my limits so that I don't crash before the finish, but when in doubt, I should keep going at the goal pace. It was absolutely worth it.

Admitting Defeat

Years ago, I'd have done it all and ended up in the hospital. (In fact, I did that once...) But I'm older now.

So, today, regretfully, I turned in my resignation from journal. My latest assignment had become a monster (as articles sometimes do) and I had not a spare moment to deal with this unplanned diversion from my time-block tetris.

After forcing my schedule into the shape where I could commit to finishing the journal work while squeezing in preparation for my final trial in trial ad, finishing my school work, the MPRE, running, wedding planning and finals, I had to admit that while I could balance it all, it wasn't pretty. And honestly, I didn't want to be in this same situation in the future. In order to be sure I wasn't going to be in the same situation in December, or worse yet, February (the month before the wedding), something had to give. Instead of sleep, I chose the journal.

Add the relief from knowing where I'll work next fall, choosing a cake designer, knowing the wedding colors, ordering the rings, and registering for gifts, and I'm almost relaxed all of a sudden. Perhaps I'll have a zen-like run tomorrow.

The Painful Irony

I'm not amused that the organization in charge of the MPRE refuses to release the raw scores that it uses to scale the exams.

I've asked google and all the legal people I know to estimate how to translate percentage correct on practice exams into scaled scores. Turns out, no one seems to know.

Instead, I get:

"Don't worry. Everyone passes the MPRE."

Or, better yet:

"80 is passing in California."

Oh, that's comforting. Too bad a scaled score of 80 means approximately the same to me as "two monkeys." Scaled to what, exactly? We don't know anything about it other than that 100 is the mean they shoot for when scaling scores. The only relevant information I have found is that it looks like only 15 percent of the people who took the exam in 2004 actually scored low enough to fail in California. So, pragmatically, I guess I can go to sleep and rely upon the hope that when I'm prepared and lucky, I don't usually find myself in the bottom 15 percent.

But, the bigger question is this: How can the ABA allow an organization to assign numbers that determine whether or not you are "ethical" enough to be a lawyer while not requiring that the organization disclose exactly what those numbers mean? Why do we give the National Conference of Bar Examiners the power to make this judgment without disclosing the methods by which it determines its scaled scores, or at the very least, which raw scores correspond to the scaled scores for past tests.

I can think of several reasons why an organization with a monopoly on testing would want to keep their scoring methodology a secret. But most of those reasons lead to the conclusion that the NCBE is hiding something, and not one of them is justifiable. Any help? Or are you all with me?

Back Home


Most people, they think that if your dog gets sprayed by a skunk, you should bathe her in tomato juice.

They're wrong.

Massengill Douche works much better.


Good to know.

And yes, Penelope, my step-brother's dog, is doing much better.

Hallow-what?

When exactly did the Brothers Grimm get hooked up with that pimp?

I'm just curious, because I couldn't help but notice that Saturday's night on the town was over populated by little-slut-riding-hoods, snow-fuck-me-whites, cinder-fuck-me-ellas, and there's-no-underwear-butt-home dorothy(s).

Pardon the French, but really? Ladies? Is this necessary?

It's confusing, to say the least...

Word of the day

Corporate tax: It's exciting stuff, yo.
(The dark secret, of course, being that I really enjoy it.)

ar·rear·age
Pronunciation Key (-rîrj)
n.

1. The state of being behind in the fulfillment of obligations or of being overdue in payment.
2. A payment owed.


Source: The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition
Copyright © 2000 Houghton Mifflin Company.

Two Funny Things

Somehow, I managed to be in 16 units instead of 14 this semester without knowing it. You may wonder how I could do this. I do too. I think it had something to do with a plan back in May to drop one of my two unit classes after school started and I decided which one I liked better. Of course, I can't be sure because I didn't remember the plan...In fact, I probably wouldn't have noticed at all had I not done the sanity "Am I'm really going to graduate? Let's add up the units to be sure." check when I registered for next semester's classes. Oh well. No wonder I feel overwhelmed.

Also, Intel has put out a new set of ads that rougly belong in the category "entertainment in your lap." Apparently, you can see them as moving pictures on this gizmo called the television, so perhaps some of you are familiar. It was new to me, though. And I thought it failed pretty spectacularly. See them here.

And I'm Spent

In the last 7 days, I've accomplished quite a bit. I think the stress-induced inexplicable wedding/lawschool/running/law-job nightmares should calm down a bit. E, no doubt, will be happy with my increased amount of sleep. In particular, I've crossed the following items off my list:

• Accepted a job offer. While I'm honored to have committed to a job for next fall, the process was exhausting. I spoke with and or met with everyone I know who currently works in the legal field to get their input and opinion on how my options could affect my career. I struggled with the reality that I had to limit my career to one of several paths, and in doing so, close the door to things that I wanted to do. Finally, I went with my gut feeling that I just wasn't ready to say that I'd never set foot in a courtroom ever again. So, I'm done. I supposedly know who I'll be working for and what I'll be doing a year from now. As if humans ever successfully plan that far in advance... (Incidentally, I lost the bet with E, and now owe him dinner at french laundry because he claimed to know my decision as of June 10th, 2005. I, of course, disagreed, challenged him to the bet, and the envelope we sealed with his prediction was correct, so I'm the chump with the check.)
  



• Ordered bridesmaids' dresses. My attendants will be wearing a lovely halter top floor-length number. I ordered about one of every possible size that could be used and plan to take liberal use of AT's very friendly return policy.



• Ran the Nike Half Marathon. It was very different from every race I've ever ran. The announcers kept slipping and using the word "product" in place of "race." That should explain the difference better than any long-winded discourse I could give. Unfortunately, I started with a pace group slower than I planned and was shocked to realize that the course was so crowded that I couldn't move up after I warmed up. Props to the lady who elbowed her way up the hill before fort mason by taking out Team-in-training runners who opted to walk -- the pictures of their inspirations pinned to their jerseys (survivors and deceased) were an excellent contrast to her idiocy. Given the crowds and the funky vibe, I opted to chill out and call it a training run for the US Half. Oddly enough, it's such a fast course that I finished in 2:11, and had a blast running the last two miles at a 7:39 and a 7:34 respectively. I didn't know I could run two miles in succession that fast, and most certainly not at the end of a long run. So that was exciting. Also, B gets props for finishing her first full marathon, as does ALV for finishing the half after waking at dawn.



• Registered for my first marathon. I've been contemplating running this race for a while. But I kept putting off registration in case I had a change of heart, an injury, or a bout of sanity. Today, the site said it was almost sold out, so I'm committed. Wish me luck.



• Caught up in my reading. Okay, technically, I'm already behind again, because I'm blogging right now instead of reading for tomorrow, but as of Thursday, I had done all of my reading for my classes before they occurred. It was a good feeling, if brief.



• Almost finished my editor duties for the article I'm assigned. Yeah, journal is a ridiculous amount of work, but I'm more than halfway done with my major responsibility for the semester.



• Other miscellaneous: viewed and approved the rehearsal dinner location, ordered groomsmen tuxes, had a doctor's appointment, was fingerprinted for the bar character application, scheduled/signed up for review courses for the MPRE, scheduled my final trial in trial ad, etc.



• Found that I could successfully relax for hours at a time on the weekend and even slept in for the first time in weeks. Ahhh....

The Giant Artichoke

Yesterday, E, G & I drove down highway 1 to go to a wedding in Carmel. We passed a giant sign advertising "Deep Fried Artichokes." Lunch plans for the next day's drive back were clear.

So, today, we stopped at the roadside shack, only to find that they had frozen deep fried artichoke hearts. Not to be disappointed in our quest, we turned around, and pointed the car to Castroville, home of the artichoke festival, and the self-proclaimed "Artichoke Center of the World."

We figured we could order deep fried artichoke hearts at the restaurant next to the world's largest artichoke. We were correct. They were everything you'd expect them to be:

Deep.
Fried.
Artichoke.
Hearts.

E put it best when he said, "They are good. But, it's not the life-altering experience I was hoping for."

In hindsight, 2 full orders ($7.95, roughly 15 hearts per order) with nothing except water was a bit much for 3 people. Now, I'm slowly moving, if at all, in a fried-food-induced tired state. Too bad I didn't get any studying done yesterday (run 12 miles, drive to Carmel, wedding) because the beer-batter in my belly makes today couch potato day. I have no choice. This stuff is powerful--we should tell the military.

Don't worry. I'll catch up on my school work one of these days...

Limping Along

My immune system has come under a stealth attack.

On Tuesday afternoon, I went to the gym, and ran my intervals fairly quickly (did the last four at a 7:30 pace) for a total of about 5 miles. Thirty minutes later, in Spanish class, E asked me, "Are you getting sick?" I answered, "No, I feel fine."

Famous last words.

For the remaining two hours, my snorting, sniffling, and general grossness grew until I left the classroom as a collection of snot and pain. Still, I tried to pretend I was fine.

We went to Mexican food, practiced our Spanish with the waiters and busboys, and I slurped spicy seafood soup to open up my sinuses and distract my throat. The spicy liquid remedy didn't work either. By 11 PM, the words on my textbook were swimming. I gave in for a 15 minute nap and asked E to wake me so that I could finish my reading for the next day. When E woke me, it was clear--I was a goner. My throat and tongue were swollen, it hurt to swallow, me ears were achey and my nose was so stuffed that I had to breath through my mouth. Awesome.

In other news, I believe I've found one of the most ironic Supreme Court sentences ever:

For Example, in Wooley v. Maynard, (cite omitted) we held that a person could not be compelled to display the slogan "Live Free or Die."**

Really? What a country!

**Riley v. National Fed. of the Blind, 487 U.S. 781 (1988).

Oregon: It's another country

This weekend, E and I took a mini-vacation to meet up with friends from Manhattan in Portland, Oregon.

I've traveled to many foreign countries. I'm familiar with culture shock. But, I didn't expect to experience it merely one state north from my roots. I suffered from the idea that since I was raised in Northern California, Oregon just couldn't be that different. I was wrong.

At first, we were baffled by the amazing beer and relative lack of public celebration thereof. Then, we were confused by the sub-Italian pace of life. Finally, we all sheepishly agreed that the Willamette Valley made some good Pinot, but with nowhere near the consistency that the acclaim it has received would indicate. While enjoying the Meditrina release party at Sokol Blosser, we were given an explanation. No doubt, the man with the fake leaf wreath hat had no idea that he was explaining our entire Oregon experience. But explain it, he did:

This valley? Well, it's famous for 6 products. All of them agricultural.

#1? That's ornamental nursery plants. (makes sense, I thought, reminiscing on the multiple fields of pretty flowers we'd passed on our drive.)

#2? Well, that's hazelnuts, of course. This valley makes 95% of the hazelnuts consumed in the United States. (Huh. Roasting on an open fire, indeed.)

#3? Christmas trees. (Yup. We'd seen many fields of those in various stages of growth.)

#4? Unofficially. Marijuana. (An unofficial lightbulb went off in each of our heads. The explanation for the culture shock is that the whole state is totally roasting on an open fire, as it were.)

#5? Wine. (Number 5? This explains our underwhelm. When the wine is outranked by the unknown previous 4, well, California wine will spoil you. Seriously, though, we tasted some excellent Willamette Valley Products, and the scenery was gorgeous. But, overall, the hype was a bit too much, when the entire region is taken as a whole. In particular, we recommend avoiding Archery Summit if you're not into driving long distances to be treated like crap for the privilege of paying $10 to taste a $120 Oregon Pinot Noir that is the poster child of inexplicable trendy wine rag fame.)

#6? Huckleberries. (They are crazy about 'em up there. Who knew?)



The short story is this: if you are looking for a great, cheap destination with fabulous regional food options and the opportunity to feel as if you didn't leave anything undone after 3 days of walking and driving around to experience the northern bounty, we *HIGH*ly recommend Portland. (Caveat #1: If you are single and are looking for a night scene, this may not be the best option for you. Caveat #2: Despite what seems to be a slower pace of life, you will not have enough time to do all of your work for the weekend if you are a 3L taking a full load. You will return relaxed, fat, refreshed, full of beer that is better than the wine, and even further behind than when you left on your schoolwork.)

Enjoying the Benefits

Today, my school hosted a Supreme Court review. I attended and was treated to a free hour and a half that easily beat out the majority of the class hours that my tuition has purchased thus far.

First, there was free food. Second, there was free wine. Third, there was free diet coke. Did I mention it was free? Oh, and the technical reason why I went?

There were three of the bay area's foremost legal scholars giving squib versions of their takes of last year's most important Supreme Court decisions. Apparently, the broadband case is the only important case from last season related to IP. (In all fairness, despite the furor in the tech world, grokster is a no-brainer: if you're going to rely on substantial non-infringing use, you can't advertise copyright infringement as your main sales ploy. Shocking.)

Outside of IP, if you're me, other than Booker and FanFan and Gonzales, you are woefully underinformed of the Supreme Court cases from last session and completely uninformed of the cases to be heard this session (other than Anna Nicole's case, of course).

So I went to the event and attentively listened. It was entertaining, informative, and I was conscious of just how lucky I was to be so well educated. Two years ago, I might have thought I knew what I was hearing, but I wouldn't have understood the historical meaning of the ordinary English words they used, the legal jargon, the importance of the issues, or the depth of the knowledge that these three legal scholars poured upon us. But today, I was thankful and in awe, plus well enough informed to understand that I was still missing some things. I guess the transformation is almost complete.

And yes, while the scholars offered informed and interesting commentary on Roberts and Meirs, I tend to agree with Buffalo Wings and Vodka on the likely line-up of the Court.

A great weekend

Friday night was gourmet dinner with friends at a local greek restaurant. The waitress didn't like us so much, but we didn't like her either, so that was fair.

Saturday, in the theme of public transit and my life, BART made its best efforts to ruin my weekend (final score: bart $16; BT & E: 2 stations, 3 unvalued cards, and barely exiting one bart parking garage with our life). Finally, E and I admitted defeat and drove to the game.

But, the BART debacle must have bought me some karma because the game was a shutout. Sure, the QB made some errors and we looked a little sloppy, but it was fun to meet up with friends and enjoy the win. Given how long I've been a loyal fan of a losing team, I'll enjoy any win I can get, especially if it's followed by Mexican food and margaritas with college friends that I haven't seen in months. Priceless.

In one of the indicators that I'm no longer in college, I opted to leave after the restaurant closed to head home for an early Saturday night and lots of water before bed. Sometimes, it amazes me how my priorities have changed in the last decade. But, they have, and this morning, I experienced one of the reasons why. I willingly woke at 7 AM for a leisurely trip to pick up a friend, get coffee and drive to San Francisco. I was rewarded with one of those fabulous autumn summer days (yeah, you read that right) that almost make living in San Francisco seem like a reasonable option for someone who hates the fog. It was clear, blue, and [gasp] warm from 8 AM on.

CKD, J and I all showed up at the ferry building around 8:30 AM to take part in the Bridge to Bridge run.

In a simultaneously lazy and responsible act, I'd taken Thursday, Friday, and Saturday off of my feet and belatedly replaced the scheduled miles with 2 yoga workouts. It worked wonders. I felt energized, my knee wasn't the least bit sore, and despite starting in the very back and having to weave through the crowds, I managed to finish the 12K at a 9:01 pace. Plus, the route was roughly the same as the first half of the Nike race, so I now have a decent idea of what I'm in for next month: 6 miles of flat and gorgeous. (Before the hill at mile 7, but we won't talk about that right now.)

After the race and the inevitable waiting for transport, parking exits, etc., the boys joined us and we replaced all the burnt calories in a single guiltless brunch. After much laughter, food, and a mojito, I took a shower and a nap. In the interests of the story, I'll stop there and pretend it was the perfect weekend. (Read: I'm definitely not taking a break from necessary schoolwork right now. Perfect weekend. Perfect.)

Word of the day

ad·um·brate:

1. To give a sketchy outline of.
2. To prefigure indistinctly; foreshadow.
3. To disclose partially or guardedly.
4. To overshadow; shadow or obscure.

Source: The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition, 2000 Houghton Mifflin Company.

I see

My job decision has come down to a list of pros and cons, on paper. No wait, make that a weighted list of pros and cons. One of the fringe benefits at one of the firms is a shower and group of runners. This means I could run at lunch or other time during the day, return to work sweaty, shower, and resume working with a fresh perspective. It also means I'm more likely to be able to keep up my running.

I was weighting this as a nice perk, but pretty far down the totem pole, all things considered.

The other day, I mentioned something about maybe not being able to run when things got hairy at work as an attorney. The following conversation ensued:


E: Oh Great. [laugh]
BT: What?
E: I think that running is the only thing that keeps you from going completely bat-shit.
BT: [laugh] What do you mean?
E: Exactly what I said. I think that running keeps you from going completely bat-shit.


Perhaps the shower/running culture needs a slightly higher weighting...

Evolution

The people I spoke to several times a day in junior high and high school became the people I spoke to daily, or every other day in college. New people in college became the close friends that I spoke to daily as well. After graduation, many of the daily conversation friends (both those from before college as well as those acquired at school) became the people I now email or talk to once every few months. I still feel close to them, I just don't know every single detail of their life, nor them, mine.

But, unlike most people, despite people moving away and vast differences in life experiences, until recently I still managed to maintain a teenagerism in my relationship with some of my earliest girlfriends. This was only possible through a heavy reliance on the telephone.

Lately, in a change that must be shocking to everyone who knows me, I find that I'm tired of the phone. If I must communicate via long-distance, I prefer email. And over that, I prefer to sit and relax in person.

Keeping up to date on the details of people's lives is very time consuming. I have trouble finding time to keep E completely up to date on my life and staying on top of what is going on in his. To go through the same for multiple friends, many of whom are several hundred miles away has become impossible. In fact, I've actually gotten it wrong a few times recently, by trying to fill in the gaps with what I think makes sense. Turns out, I've grown far enough apart in space, time, and life experiences that I don't know what is going on day-to-day with my closest friends from childhood and my best guess estimate is filled with all sorts of ill-informed conjecture and personal assumptions.

I think it's normal to reach a point where you respect and love your closest friends from childhood but acknowledge that you are not part of the group who knows them best anymore. If you don't live in the same town and see each other on a regular basis, you have to make time for phone calls almost every day, or you just won't have the information you need to understand what is going on in their life, and in particular, how they feel about things.

It's sad to lose the teenager umbilical cord connection to your closest childhood friends. But, it's probably inevitable. And, for me, it's probably been a long time coming. In the last month or so, I've been so busy that I've had to choose between regular phone calls or my running schedule, regular phone calls or wedding planning, regular phone calls or studying, etc. Add that the phone currently represents my confusion over career choices and the stress of wedding orchestration and it should be no surprise that I keep choosing other things over the phone.

So, yeah. I'm finding it bittersweet and liberating to finally be getting over my phone addiction. We'll see if it sticks...I do, after all, have almost two decades of the habit to kick.

Bzzzzz.....

Busy, busy, busy.

Do I go with option (A) or option (B)? That's the theme in my life these days. It plays out in every facet: career, wedding planning, social life, food, even deciding to answer the phone when a good friend calls while I'm trying to catch up on my studying.

I'm happy to report that I've been cooking more, I'm spending more time with E, and my running is on track. Unfortunately, the trade off is that I'm behind on wedding planning (did you know that DJ's are typically booked up more than 6 months in advance? Yeah, me neither.), haven't spoken to close friends and family as much as I need to, and am also behind in the reading for all of my classes.

I'm pleasantly overwhelmed with my todo list. I realize this juxtaposition of terms (pleasantly overwhelmed?) makes no sense to most people. But to me, it's doable. I'll figure it out in the next couple of months. I'll sort it out. The chaos is required for the calm that I want. I've just got to push on through. Today was a 5 mile run and 8 solid hours of studying with H. I'm not any further ahead than I thought I was last night. I only managed to clear things from my plate that I hadn't realized were there. Rad. Tomorrow, maybe I can make some visible progress. This should be a weekend of much studying, running, and not so much fun (we've only got a housewarming and wedding... which, in my crazy social schedule, is an *easy* weekend).

The best thing that's happened in the chaos so far is that a *ridiculously* gifted musician friend has volunteered to play divertimento piano at our wedding during the cocktail reception. I can't even explain how excited I am. This musician is of the caliber that does *NOT* play the wedding circuit. And, it's a close friend. I'm so honored and excited. Now if only I can manage to find a way to schedule the wedding pictures during the cocktail reception so I can hear some of the music...

Such is my 3L. I am NOT bored to death yet.

Book 18

You may think it's cheating, but I'm taking every possible point I can get. It's coming down to the wire, and I'm concerned that I may have trouble nearing a respectable end to my approximately 25 book challenge.

So, book 18 is Nigella Lawson's How to be a domestic goddess. I read all of the non-recipe text and skimmed each of the recipes. I think that counts. I now feel like I have a much better understanding of baking.

This better understanding is partially because the first recipe I tried from the book was the almond cake. It was amazing. But more importantly, it was a fun expansion of my food knowledge when I realized that marzipan is not cheese. I am amused to say that I actually left Safeway with a bit of a gourmet chip on my shoulder when the deli clerks hadn't heard of marzipan cheese. From there, I headed to my local gourmet grocer, who, of course, laughed at my idiocy and directed me to the baking aisle. Right...

So, clearly, I needed to learn a thing or two about baking. This book has been very informative and I look forward to making many of the recipes it teaches.

Not Alone

Today, I got up an hour early and tried to finish my reading. Didn't happen.

Instead of finishing my reading, I spent the weekend with E2 in San Luis Obispo, visiting my grandparents. E2 and I had a fabulous time hanging out with the old folks, relaxing, eating, shopping for $4 bathing suits (yeah, that's right, one-piece, zebra print, strapless -- it's on!), sitting in the hot tub, and running in the valley.

I was the first person called upon in my last class of the day. I passed. I felt kind of guilty. Key word "felt." Half an hour later at least five people passed in succession with the excuse, "I'm sorry, I didn't read." Ahhh. Company. Thanks guys!

One-Third

I'm 1/3 done with 1st semester. Only 10 weeks to go 'til first semester classes are over (less than 1/5 of a year).

I'm also about 1/3 done with the year prior to graduation. Only 248 days to go.

The wedding is about 1/3 paid for. I suspect it's also about 1/3 planned.

If I can pull off another 3 day week for second semester (which I will do my best to do), then I have about 1/3 of a year's days left in the classroom and/or finals until I graduate.

And, statistically speaking, I'm probably about 1/3 done with my life.

There's so much to do in the world. And so little time. Sometimes I get frenzied with scooping up life and trying to experience as much of it as possible before my time is gone. And yet, when I catch myself, I try to slow down, because there's the difficult, but imortant reality that *doing nothing* is sometimes the best way to cherish the time you have. This weekend, God-willing, I'll go visit my Papa, who's still hanging in there. Whenever I speak with him on the phone, I'll inevitably say something like, "have a good day," or "have a good weekend." He always responds, "They're all good days, honey. They're all good days." He's right, of course. The trick is remembering it.

Assumption of Responsibility

Is it just me, or does it take a particular kind of person to flush the toilet and leave the stall without checking to see if their feces, toilet paper, and/or urine has actually left the bowl? I mean, there's a feeling of entitlement, and then, there's the honest belief that your waste will be cleaned up by some unidentified shit-fairy assigned specifically to you.

What is it about law school that attracts people of this type in such high numbers? Or what is it about my particular schedule of classes? I mean, I'm all for flushing on behalf of these people, because, hey, that's how I make the world a better place. I flush for them and for me. But really? Is this necessary? Wouldn't the world be an even better place if we all just took care of our own?

In all seriousness, though. I find that the people I like the most are the ones whose first questions are, "How can I take care of the problems I create?" "What did I do wrong?" "How can I do better next time?" "How can I improve?" "What am I missing right now?" But I have trouble relating to people who complain about how others are keeping them down, or how they don't have options, or how they are just "stuck" and are forced to wait it out 'til things magically "get better."

I feel like they may be the ones too preoccupied to flush their own toilets.

[laugh] well, if this isn't a rant by me blaming others, I don't know what is...

On Being a Statistical Outlier

Before she went off-line Sua Sponte posted about her heart rate jumping into the 170's during her workout, and how this was evidence that she was posing as a Californian, never truly one of us.

This prompted me, a fifth-generation Californian, to finally post about yet another wonderful thing I've learned from my heart rate monitor (great birthday present E! Thanks!). Sua, you too can belong here in the sunny land of awesome produce. Your skyrocketing heart rate doesn't even have the right to exclude you.

WARNING: STOP READING IF YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT EXERCISE PHYSIOLOGY

The standard logic about heart rate training zones is all derived from statistical means for groupings by age, sex, resting heart rate, weight, BMI, etc. The experts fight about the importance of many things, but, most of them agree on one thing: what really counts is that you train at the proper percentage of YOUR max heart rate. So, if your heart rate jumps to 170 during workouts that you perceive to be of medium intensity and you are otherwise healthy, then your max heart rate is probably just an outlier on the high side.

The best measure of your max heart rate is to actually max it out. That is, take a stress test in a lab, or buy a heart rate monitor and wear it whenever you exercise (eventually, you'll notice where you typically max out and some day, you'll do something stupid like go too far uphill in the heat or something and see a number that is probably right around your max).

After exercising with my HRM for the last couple of months, it looks like my max is around 200-205. What this means is that I regularly hit the low 170's (85% of my max) during most workouts, but it's nothing to be alarmed about. Before I got the HRM, I ignored the predicted heart rate max calculations (which all take averages for my age, sex, etc. into account) because I couldn't get a good workout if I followed them. Depending on which formula I use, my heart should max out somewhere between 176-196. Given that I hit 199 on my last 10.5 miler and easily lived to talk about it, this is clearly not the case.

Basically, if you are an oddball like me, you need to do all of your own personal calculations based on my measured (not predicted) HRmax.

But, say you don't want to go the HRM route, and don't want to get a professional max stress test, so you aren't going to have a "measured HRMax" regardless of how sloppy the measurement is. What then? Well, according to those in the know, the next best thing is to take one of the Sub Max Tests. I haven't taken either of them (perhaps I will in a follow up post), but I believe that if I were to walk a mile as fast as I could, my heart rate would level out somewhere around the mid 120's. This would put me at a calculated max of 185. So, anecdotally guessing (could this be any less scientific?), the mile walk test could provide a low prediction if you're a high-heart-rate outlier.

****Training Zones:
The general rules about targeting zones haven't changed in the last 30 years (50% warmup, 60% easy/fat burning, 70% aerobic fitness, 80% anaerobic fitness, 90% VO2max). But the old [(220-age) * Zone Percentage] formula isn't preferred anymore. Today, the Karvonen formula is the favorite. It multiplies the zone percentages against your Heart Rate Reserve (HRMax - HRResting) and then adds the percentage of your HRReserve to your resting heart rate to give you the target for the zone. So, if you have a high resting heart rate, you'll have higher Zone calculations under the modern formula, whereas in days past, your resting heart rate was not given a moment's thought.

For those of you still reading, you can try the Karvonen formula here.

Finally, if you'd like to read some reassuring writing about variance in max heart rates from someone who didn't just read a pile of running books and take a few exercise physiology courses in college, I recommend this article.

Summer Salad

When summer ends, E & I have a habit of taking about two weeks to stay home and be ridiculously healthy and chill. Ordinarly, summer, for us, is a wine-soaked, culinary storm of social events. With the addition of summer associate madness, this summer was perhaps the most ridiculous yet.

So, when we returned from Labor Day, we began our 15 day recovery period. We spend almost every night at home, just the two of us. We eat home-cooked, simple, vegetable laden meals. We avoid all alcohol (which is, in and of itself, an interesting social experiment. It's amazing how many times you have to say "no thanks" in two weeks, and more amazing how many people want an explanation for your refusal.) We use the downtime to talk to each other each night and become more involved in each other's lives than we have been in months. We (and by we, I mean I) try to remember to jointly do yoga, pushups, and/or situps before bed.

Two nights ago, I made a bulgur wheat salad. The original came from Food and Wine, but it called for Mint, which didn't sound good to me. It also called for toasted almonds, but we have a ton of pine nuts laying around, so I decided to use those instead. Lastly, if there's one thing better than summer tomatoes, it's more summer tomatoes, so the ratio in my version is skewed from the original. The final result: One of the EASIEST and prettiest healthy summer salads I've ever made. It keeps very well in the fridge (it's now 2 days old and I just had a delicious bite as a snack).

Ingredients
2 cups boiling water
2 cups medium-grind bulgur
1 pound green beans
Juice of 2 lemons
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
2-3 cups red and yellow cherry tomatoes, halved
1/2 cup pine nuts (optional)
1/4 cup coarsely chopped italian parsely
Salt and freshly ground pepper

1. Pour boiled water over the bulgur in a large metal or glass bowl. Cover and let sit for 20 minutes (roughly how long it takes to prepare the other ingredients).

2. Add enough water to cover the green beans to a pot. Bring water and a few dashes of garlic salt to a boil.

3. Wash and trim green beans. Chop into 1 inch segments.

4. Blanche green beans 'til bright green (3-4 minutes). Remove from heat and rinse with cold water.

5. Wash and cut cherry tomatoes. Chop parsely.

6. Juice lemons. Mix lemon juice with olive oil. Toss mixture into Bulgur wheat with a fork after the Bulgur has absorbed all of the water.

7. Add the remaining ingredients to the bowl. Toss with a fork. Serve at room temperature or chilled (better chilled).

Enjoy!

This Probably Isn't Funny

But I just can't stop laughing at the name of the martial arts school that shares space with the local JCC:

Judu

Am I wrong?

You know you're a 3L when...

You've done all of the reading for the first few weeks of non-profits class. But you still haven't figured out that "tax-exempt" for 501(c)3 organizations means exempt only from corporate income tax (and tax-deductible in some cases via the operation of 170, but I digress).

A good way to make sure that you, the professor, and all of the other students are convinced of your inability to concentrate on school this year is to raise your hand and ask about the importance of the employment tax exemption in the context of the problem the professor would like to move beyond.

Oh. There's no such thing as an employment tax exemption for 501(c)3 orgs. Tax exempt doesn't mean completely tax exempt. The professor knows this. The professor's response to your question will make it clear that the book has explained this. Your classmates' embarrassed silence will show that they, too, knew it.

And the great thing about 3L is... you'll laugh at yourself. Out loud.

Hypothetically speaking.

Back In the Swing

The holiday weekend was a wonderful vacation bridge between my crazy summer and my student life. I put in 19 miles of running over 3 days, and in the hot North Georgian hills, no less. At the end of my run every day, I jumped in the lake. We slept in every day. We took a "booze cruise" every afternoon, where the entire household loaded onto the pontoon boat and slowly crawled around the lake while sipping wine, eating hors d'oevres, and watching the sunset. We ate well at all meals, but the culinary star of the weekend was the homemade lemon ice cream every night.

And then, after braving the Atlanta Hartsfield airport on Labor Day, we were home.

Today, I caught up and focused on being a productive student. I got my car washed, finished the laundry, mailed things that needed mailing, scheduled various appointments, and replied to emails.

Then, I happily bought $50 worth of groceries at the hippy european market. Make no mistake that's a TON of vegetables et cetera for two people to consume. I made a menu plan that uses the majority of what I purchased over the next two weeks. Because guess what? For the first time in at least 3 months, we're going to be home and able to enjoy home-cooked meals for two straight weeks. I'm in heaven. Who knows, the house may even get cleaned.

Much to my surprise, I am caught up in my reading for all my classes, save one. That's what I've got to do right now. Read taxation of corporations and partnerships until I finish the assignment, or more likely, until I fall asleep.

Tomorrow, I'll wake, go for a run and sit through classes only to come home, cook dinner and read until I fall asleep. Rinse, lather, repeat. I'm actually looking forward to being back in this grove. It's oddly relaxing.

We Hope New Orleans Gets Better

That was the very sincere closing line of the United Ticket agent who refunded our tickets to New Orleans. E & I had planned a weekend trip with friends in October. I was very much looking forward to it, as I had never been. E & his childhood friend, from Atlanta, were looking forward to visiting as adults.

It will never, no doubt, be the same. They knew a flood was coming. In fact, last Winter Break, in Atlanta, E & I and the friends specifically decided to go to New Orleans and stay at the Monteleone because we wanted to experience the magic one last time before the Big Easy inevitably succumbed to the forces of nature.

I never thought it would be this soon or this disastrous. I'm certain all of the inhabitants of all of the areas hit by Katrina feel my shock one-hundred fold. I've been keeping up to date by reading Ernie's posts as well as the local news.

I'm overwhelmed. We live in an age where we need not face the reality of death and the forces of nature on a daily basis. When we are reminded of the harsh reality of Mother Earth's strength, it's a bit much to take.

Best wishes to all affected.

Was there any question?

What "Happy Bunny" phrase are you? you suck big time You are a very honest person. You tell people how it is with no remorse.

Click Here to Take This Quiz Brought to you by YouThink.com quizzes and personality tests.

Book 17

The Human Comedy by William Saroyan.

In a ranting email, AH wrote about her shock that someone hadn't read anything by William Saroyan. Sheepishly, I admitted that I hadn't read anything by him either and promptly ordered this book.

AH, as usual, was right. This book was and endearing and heartwarming tale with the feel good simplicity of Horatio Alger tempered with a quiet childlike confusion and awakening to the tough realities of life. It is a quick read of several short vignettes that string themselves together into a great tale of the life, struggles, and death that visits an immigrant family during World War II.

More than anything, I loved the voice. Clear, simple, language. It was convincingly scripted in words that forced me to look at the world of this book with the bright-eyed wonder of the two children around whom the story grows.

This tale was particularly helpful in the current phase of my life. I have much to be thankful for and much more I should take the time to appreciate and enjoy. Instead, I've been moving too quickly and too wrapped up with details of my future life that I want to arrange. Each simple moment of life, in all of its flawed glory, is beautiful, and I thank the Human Comedy for making me laugh, smile, and remember that fact.

What NOT to do

D, a practicing 3rd year attorney forwarded me an email she received yesterday:


Dear D~ A law student at [insert law school], I am
currently in the process of applying for summer associate positions
for 2006.


So far, so good. A little random because of the lack of connection between D and law school, but not too bad.


I am interested in [D's firm] and was wondering if you
could please give me a brief statement as to why you've chosen to work
there.


WHAMMY!!!!! GAME OVER!!! Hey Student: did you just demand a statement from an attorney working at a firm where you'd like to work? Talk about entitlement, this is a whole new level. Did it occur to you that D is an overworked young associate and worried about making her billable hours? Your request for her to do additional work on your behalf is absurd and shows a serious lack of understanding and people skills. If you must solicit information from strangers, the best course is to bribe them, not demand something. How 'bout asking her if you can take her out to lunch or a drink to pick her brain at her convenience?


I chose to email you as I think I also would like to practice
litigation.


Uhhh... yeah. This isn't very helpful. You probably need a better reason to contact a stranger. There are a billion associates in litigation.


I understand you are probably very busy, but a short
sentence or two describing your experience at [firm] would be much
appreciated.


Actually, that's the problem. You clearly DON'T understand that D is very busy or you wouldn't be asking for her to provide you with information and offering her no incentive to do so.


Thank you for your help.


The presumptive thank you is always funny when the thing requested isn't received, no?


Sincerely,

[CLUELESS STUDENT]


In case this still seems like a good idea to you: let me assure you, IT'S NOT. The reply that D sent was a reasonably firm but polite no, but the forwarded email and accompanying rant that D sent me, was much more telling:


Ok, so this RANDOM chick just emails me out of the blue... asking me
for a "brief stmt" of how i came to be at [firm] and if i like it.

[1] i am NOT going to tell you anything real, so unless you want the
standard "oh yes, it's wonderful. it's all about the people and
everyone's great" response, dont email me. i dont know you. send an
email to an alum or someone you actually have a random connection
with. Or, here's an idea, find someone you KNOW would tell you the
honest truth.

[2] how do i know you are who you say you are and not some random
person trying to get dirt from me? amd then going to post in on a
blog, send it to the entire legal community or something else wierd?

[3] if you want to ask me something, ASK ME. dont ask me a totally
vague and unanswerable question.


The one thing this student accomplished was to make sure that D will remember her name and vote against her getting an interview. Don't be that student.

That is all.

Book 16

Daughter of God by Lewis Perdue

In response to a comment from a poster who claimed to be Mr. Perdue himself, I ordered and read Daughter of
God. Unfortunately for Mr. Perdue, I came to the same conclusion regarding plagiarism by Dan Brown from The Daughter of God that I reached for The Da Vinci Legacy. Even more unfortunate for Mr. Perdue, the court agreed with my conclusion as well.

However, regardless of allegations of plagiarism, like the Da Vinci Legacy, I sincerely enjoyed Daughter of God. The background seemed much better researched than Dan Brown's works and the discussion was much more intellectual. In particular I found Mr. Perdue's treatment of the evolution of God-gender and the nature of faith to be on a cerebral level that Dan Brown's works fail to reach.

Additionally, while Daughter of God successfully weaves themes that are intellectually challenging and interesting, this success is not attained at the expense of plot. Rather, the plot is fast moving and interesting with plenty of gun fights, escapes, captures, murders, travel, near-misses and romance. If Purdue lacks the smooth plot flow of Dan Brown, it is only because the plot is broken up with discussions of historical background and philosophical musings that in this reader's opinion add to, rather than detract from, the overall story.

I would wholeheartedly recommend this book to those looking for a quick good read in the religious-thriller genre. In fact,I would recommend it over Dan Brown's Da Vince Code, if only because I find Dan Brown's complicated fictitious puzzles to be less interesting than Perdue's discussion of the true-to-life puzzles of religious evolution and individual faith.

Book 15


Marathon: The Ultimate Training Guide by Hal Higdon

I may never have the time to train for a marathon again. (I may never want to, either, but that's a different story.) So, I've got plans to put my free time and flexible schedule to good use by training for and completing my first marathon before the end of law school. Although I'm not wedded to it, I have gone so far as to pick an ideal race: flat, in California, well organized but not huge, cool weather, and, of course, before the wedding (may as well take advantage of those training miles).

In anticipation of that race (and the hope that I won't do something stupid to injure myself or find myself unable to finish the race) I added Hal's self-proclaimed ultimate training guide for the 26.2 mile race to the growing list of running books I've read this year.

Who should read this book: if you haven't read anything about running and plan to run a marathon, this is the book for you. Even if you are reasonably well educated on the subject of running, this book will serve to reassure you of what you already know and psych you up for your first marathon.

Who should think twice before reading this book: If you are looking for a large collection of various training schedules, you may be disappointed. There are a few training schedules included in the book, but I didn't find them any more helpful than the ones I've found on-line or in other running books. Instead of providing me with knowledge to plan my training, I found this book helpful because it shifted my perception of how I should train and the goal time I should shoot for with the constant repetition of themes to keep my type-A personality in check (slow and steady finishes the race, be disciplined with your training, be even more disciplined with resting and stretching, focus, and be realistic).

After reading this book, I've strengthened my suspicions: there is probably no substitute for running a marathon yourself and the majority of the stuff you learn while preparing and finishing the race can't be learned from a book. I waited until I had finished this book before outlining my training schedule for the next 6 months. I'm fairly certain that I would have settled on roughly the same schedule had I not read this book. So, the "ultimate training guide" didn't add much to my previous understanding of how I should structure my training. However, it did discuss the benefits and drawbacks of every training approach I'd ever heard of (and some I hadn't) and made me more confident in my own ability to design a solid training schedule for myself.

While reading this book, I confirmed that for the next 6 months I'll be doing hard/easy alterations, step-back weeks, a few shorter races, and no speed training during the last 12 weeks of marathon training. I'll try to keep the posting from being monotonous on the running side of things, but no promises.

I think I'm one of them, now

I used to love school. But something about the first day just rubbed me the wrong way.

Maybe I wasn't ready.

Maybe it's that half the school is closed for construction so my already cramped campus is now unacceptably crowded.

Maybe it's the reality that I'm paying twice the tuition that I thought I'd be paying for half the school.

Maybe it's the pointlessness of the third year of law school that so many people complain about.

Maybe it's the stupid freezing, spitting, foggy weather and driving from my wonderfully sunny house into the black cloud.

Maybe it's the not one, but TWO classes where I'm required to buy a supplement of the federal or state code that the class is based upon. I pay taxes. I have a right to access those materials from any printer. I shouldn't have to buy the $42 "student edition" of the probate code. What the hell is a student edition? Perhaps there are comments on the notes? Oh, no. Of COURSE NOT. Near as I can tell, the student edition is an excuse to make me pay money instead of accessing the grown-up lawyer version on LegInfo for free. [I have a feeling I'm going to become public enemy #1 when I ask for the syllabus to be updated with code sections instead of supplement pages. Watch me care.]

Maybe it's the $500 worth of books, even after I refused to buy the codes.

Maybe it's the uncomfortable silence of an entire row of people who couldn't speak up to let the professor know that they had been skipped. And the accompanying uncomfortable silence of the entire class when the professor launched into her "it's important that everyone feels included and participates" speech.

Anyways. Perhaps my Friday of no class, weekend of wedding festivities, and trip to DC will slowly ease me back into the swing of things. I really do want to enjoy my last year. But, if yesterday is any indication, it's going to be a long 275 days.

Recap and Pause

My last day of firm #2 came and went. Now it's just the waiting game for offers and the annoying reality that I've got to prep for OCI again because offers won't be out before materials are due.

The America's Finest City half-marathon was a blast. D impressed me. She went from being a non-runner to completing a half-marathon and running over 11 miles of it in 5 months. Also, it was the most organized race I've ever ran. Doing it to help pace D made it particularly enjoyable as it forced me to slow down a little bit (although not as much as D tricked me into thinking... good thing I trained). With my reserve energy, I watched the other runners, thanked the volunteers and crowd support and took the time to observe the impressive scene of so many people doggedly pursuing their goals. It was also nice to have some spare energy at the end of 13.1 miles to know that I could have gone a little farther. I'll be needing that knowledge and confidence when it comes time to up the mileage for marathon training.

In other news, DSL is intermittent at best 'til the Covad guys show up. Also, I'm living the gypsy life, couch surfing and catching up with friends 'til school starts. See you when I'm a 3L.

The Stamp of Approval

Our Save the Date cards arrived today. We've collected all but 5 of the addresses. So, all that's left is to address them, throw stamps on 'em, and put 'em in the mail.

In anticipation of this, I went to the On-line USPS postal store. I figured there would be quite a few postcard stamps to choose from, perhaps some particularly appropriate to the wedding theme.

Umm not so much. Try two. That's right. If you want to buy 37 cent stamps, you have close to 50 options, but with postcard stamps, you get to choose between the original George W. and Wilma Rudolph.

Wilma Rudolph? Who is that? Don't get me wrong, I'm a fan of the founding fathers just as much as the next person, but I immediately thought it would be better to send postcards with stamps bearing the picture of this woman and the word "athlete." I was intrigued, I mean, who is this random other person who gets to share in the postcard stamp glory?

Well, it turns out, she was a bad-ass to the Nth degree. She was born the 20th of 22 children, with polio. She walked with braces until she was 9 years old. But, she rehabilitated her legs to become an athlete, first in basketball and then in track. She went to the Olympics at 16 and won a bronze medal, returned in 1960 at the age of 20 to become the first American woman to win 3 gold medals (in the 100m, the 200m and the 4 X 100m relay).

When she came home from the Olympics, she insisted that her welcome home parade be a racially integrated event. She is credited with saying that being the cause of the first racially integrated event in her home town of Clarkesville, Tennessee was her finest accomplishment.

Her achievements are amazing and impressive on their own. They are even more so when considered that she was an African American Woman in the South who grew up during segregation. Recently, I was shocked to learn just how long it took the world to accept that women could run marathons. No doubt it would have taken longer without Wilma Rudolph.

So, yeah. The save the date cards? They'll have Wilma Rudolph stamps. 'Nuff said.

Blogger ate the Heart Rate Monitor Post

Short summary:

Tour de Peninsula was fun. Biking isn't as strenuous a workout as running, in terms of average heart rate, even if there are mad hills and you're struggling up them with a mountain bike. If you're doing a loop, all that uphill means there are downhills.

Also, my heart rate monitor rocks. Who knew that you could use it to control the machines in the gym according to your heart rate? Why don't they advertise this? One of the best birthday presents I've gotten in a long time is the ability to simultaneously read for pleasure AND get a workout in at 60/70% of my max heart rate. I used to slow down too much when I read. No problem now, the heart rate gizmo talks to the machine and together they make sure I finish what I signed up for.

Also, thanks to the bike training and ice, my knee is healing nicely, and I should be able to complete this weekend's half marathon. We'll be slow, but that was the original plan anyways.

Book #14

On the advice of Paul Graham E bought one of the old original copies of How to Win Friends and Influence People.

Mr. Graham was right, there were some unPC ideas that are no longer in the later editions. In particular, if you buy a more recent edition, you will miss out on the last two sections:

Letters that produce miraculous results (I would have taken this out too, seems like Mr. Carnegie gets quite a bit of the credit for the structure of annoying junk mail and spam!)

and

Seven Rules for Making Your Home Life Happier This section just cracked me up. Gender roles have changed quite a bit since 1936 and the advice, while built upon solid principles, is caged in outdated perspectives and a society that no longer exists.

One of my favorite quotes? "Every man knows that he can kiss his wife's eyes shut until she will be blind as a bat, and that he has only to give her a warm smack on the lips to make her dumb as an oyster."

My second favorite quote? "And she never knows whether to be mad at or disgusted with him, because he would rather fight with her and pay for it in having to eat bad meals, and have his money wasted, and buy her new frocks and limousines and pearls, than to take the trouble to flatter her a little and treat her the way she is begging to be treated."

Comedy!

Overall, for someone as socially clueless as I often am, this book was a good reminder of common sense: You will always have more success (not just professionally, but in all relationships) if you try to see things from the other person's perspective. I suspect that the world would be a better place if everyone read this book and took its lessons to heart. I could probably stand to re-read it every year or so to remind myself of my faults and how they can offend those I wish to endear. Preachy self-help language typically annoys me, so the fact that I could get through this book and found it reasonably helpful is probably as resounding of a review as any I would ever give a book that can be found on the self-help shelves.

Arm's Length

Friday, we languished through a 2.5 hour lunch (finished with chocolate souflees) to say goodbye to most of my summer class at firm #2. They are done with their work and taking vacation before they head back to their respective schools. Now there's only three of us left, and the summer is officially winding down.

From a distance, I watched my reaction to the exits of my fellow summers and felt a bit callous. They were nice. I probably should have gotten to know them better. But there's a limited amount of time in the day, and inevitably, they just became the latest goodbye in a long string. These days, I barely have time to maintain relationships with my longstanding friends and family. So, I've taken the easy way out, and didn't even really try to get to know the summers at firm #2. As they left, I felt a slight pang of loss at the fact that I have no idea how cool they are. But that loss is inevitable when there's too much to enjoy.

Next friday, I will follow last week's summers and say my goodbyes at the third job I've left in 7 months. I suspect people will feel the way about my leaving the firm as I do about leaving it. It's unfortunate that another acquaintance has to leave, but that's how the game is played. When the law school fat lady sings, I'll have had 4 paying jobs, an unpaid externship, memberships in half a dozen organizations, and 5 semesters of classes. Each of these experiences has required hellos, adjustments, and goodbyes. And with each one, I've been learning how to be less and less attached. I suspect there's an art to being friendly but not emotionally committed and I'm certain I'm not yet artful. But, I'm learning to appreciate the good people-people I meet and have come to respect their skills as some that I'd like to develop as I mature.

For the last 2.5 years, the only constant has been me and the path I'm trying to pick through the fog of my ever-changing goals. The work keeps changing, the subject matter keeps changing, the environment keeps changing, and the people keep changing. It's been a constant now, that at any point in time, if I look just a few short weeks into the future, I can see a whole new group of people and tasks in my daily life. This is excellent when things are difficult -- you can see relief on the horizon. But it's also difficult when things are excellent, because nothing lasts.

I've still got one more week at firm #2, but I find myself looking forward and thinking that it's primarily a formality. I know how it'll play out: I've got about 20-25 hours of work to do and lunch scheduled for every day with various legal peeps who want to ride the summer associate free lunch train just one last time. I'm already half-way checked out in anticipation of the next big thing that is fall semester.

So, for me, yet another symptom of law school (or perhaps just aging, maturing, whatever the hell you want to call it) is a recognition that I shouldn't rush to put my roots down in a transient environment. Because, I've got goals, and I'm likely to move on. And even if I'm in an environment where my goals don't lead to transience, many of my colleagues do have plans to leave for bigger and better things. I'd rather be happy than sad when great people leave to accomplish great things.

Basically, I'm finding it that in the world of the law, the callousness that is often one of the complaints about lawyers' personalities actually makes my life easier. Sure, I'm dedicated to my career and the quality of the work I do, but more importantly, I want to be happy and enjoy the fruits of investing time in good relationships I can depend on. I have a few great relationships and not enough time to develop new ones on the same level. The law firm, law school, and my legal career in general is not the first place I look for quality relationships. Logically, it just doesn't make sense. I wonder if that will eventually bother me. Regardless, I look forward the day I can be yoda-like in my separation from the law firm drama, while simultaneously engaged enough to appear concerned, interested, and friendly.

Holy Sh*t

Today, E and I slowly walked towards the house after law firm #2 retreat.

It was completely different than law firm #1 retreat, starting with the fact that it was really a string of events where people could come in and out as they pleased, so WAY more people attended because it wasn't really a retreat for anyone except the summers. It was also very different because they put the summers up in porn star rooms with roman pillars around the stairs leading to four person hot tubs and mirrors above the magic fingers beds. (Okay, so maybe I'm slightly exaggerating...)

Much like firm #1's retreat, I enjoyed the activities and meals on this retreat and took advantage of them to get to know people from the firm better. I laughed at funny stories, and did my best not to be the entertainingly drunk summer associate. It was a good, but exhausting weekend.

Our slow, tired trek towards the front door was punctuated by my instinctual reach into the mail box. There was a large envelope (!) from a writing competition I'd entered several months ago. I tore it open as we walked in the door and read "Congratulations!"

Apparently, the billions of petty revisions my advisor had required of my journal note were not in vain. I actually won a decent chunk of cash, and a free trip to go accept the award in DC. I'm in shock, actually. It's probably the biggest honor I've received in the course of this whole law thing and I really wasn't thinking anything could come of it. I sent that note into at least five competitions, spending plenty of cash on each one. With each one I figured, I already wrote the damn thing...why not spend $70 on copies and shipping?

Now, no doubt because others thought it was silly to spend that much to make paper copies of an electronic document, I'm about to be the proud recipient of recognition, cash, and a free trip. I can't completely believe it, but I'm thrilled. How cool is that?

So, the moral of the story is this: if you have to write a note for your journal (or a seminar, or whatever), get a faculty advisor, work a little harder than you would have without one, and do the annoying photocopying, fedexing, etc. to enter writing competitions. The more ridiculous, the better--it thins the competition. Do it! You just might be surprised.

The next level

Sure, I've got a ring I wear every day (or rather, I try to remember to wear it every day). And we put a deposit down on the location to reserve the date. We've even been to a few catering tastings. The invitation list is mostly done. The save the date cards are ordered. We've got a friend who's probably going to do the photography and another friend who'll probably do the flowers. My sister-in-law will make the jewelery for my bridal party. We've looked at the hotel and possible locations for the rehearsal dinner. And I've tried on dresses on three occasions.

The first dress trying on attempt was at a chic-chic salon where I couldn't afford anything. The second attempt, my mom even cried at the first dress I put on. I laughed and pointed out that I looked like an automobile and asked her to at least save the tears for a dress that was flattering. Unfortunately, while everything in that store was reasonably priced, nothing was remotely attractive on me. The third attempt, however, I found a few dresses that could work in my price range and one I loved. I knew when I tried it on that it was too expensive. I was scared to find out how expensive, though, because I knew I'd buy it if it was less than 50% more than I'd planned to spend. Turns out, it was just at the high end of my budget. I was shocked. R, who was with me, went back to make sure that the woman knew which dress we were talking about because she was also shocked. The quality of the dress was very high and it seemed too good to be true that it was so "cheap." ("Cheap" as 50% more than I've ever spent on an outfit, with the baseline being the emergency suit I bought in 10 minutes at a Union Street boutique.)

Yet, despite all of this preparation, until yesterday, the wedding still felt like a normal event to be scheduled in my life. I finish work in two weeks, run a half marathon, school starts, N's wedding, a few trips, another couple half marathons, the MPRE is in November, the holidays, my first marathon in february, and I get married in March. It was just another stop on the train of my life this year. As AD informed me the other night, I'm "painfully pragmatic." So I figured, the stress of getting married -- that's for other people.

But, yesterday, the event took on a whole new level of reality. E2 and I went to the salon to see my dress and how it fit after the 5+ summer associate pounds have neatly settled themselves on my frame. It still fit, and E agreed that it looks beautiful. I figured I might be able to wait until September to order the dress, so D could see it when she visits and possibly I could whittle a few of the extra inches away. But the owner of the store quickly disavowed me of that notion. Apparently, the dress needs to be here 6 weeks before the ceremony in case I need alterations. With work breaks for Christmas and Chinese New Years, even if I ordered it yesterday, it wouldn't arrive 'til late January at the earliest.

So, that's it. I was measured and determined to be a particular size. Oddly enough, it was the size they had in the store and it fit reasonably well right off the rack -- this NEVER happens for me. The owner of the store knew her business, she discreetly asked me if I "maintain my weight" because the dress fits as is. I explained that I'm about 5 pounds heavier than I normally am, and we discussed the theoretical pre-wedding loss of weight that seems to accompany every woman's wedding. Turns out, I have a "nice bust" and unless I lose so much weight that it shrinks to the size it was when I was a teenage athlete with 13% body fat (oh, hell no) it will be the limiting factor in the size of dress I order. Kind of a relief, actually. I can gain a few more pounds or lose 10 and I still will have ordered the correct size dress.

So, I plunked down my credit card. And, for some reason, it feels so much more real. I'm getting married. Workers in a chinese factory will be cutting material to fit my body exactly and sewing what must be a million parts to put it together. Six months from now, the most expensive outfit I've ever worn will arrive in the bay area for me to try it on and have it altered. And all of of this effort is focused on one day. I'm excited, and I'm starting to see how this whole wedding thing could be stressful.

Drinking it in

As planned, I've been attending the social activities, enjoying a bit too much of the free food and alcohol, and putting my free time to very good use.

We've done a weekend with E's sister and her boyfriend including a friday night in San Francisco, winetasting in Sonoma, a party in San Rafael and another party in Cupertino. I wanted to post about the wineries we visited, but time got away from me. Suffice it to say that North Sonoma is much better for winetasting than Napa, in my opinion. Two weekends ago, I went on a wonderful retreat with one of the firms (which was awesome despite my whining post). This weekend, I left E in the heat of Silicon Valley (102F at home on Saturday!) to do the whole bachelorette weekend in a condo on the beach thing for my college roommate. The weekend with the girls was amazing: views of the California coast while running, wine tasting in the golden foothill valleys, eating too much, staying up late and laughing at old stories -- I'm so glad I was able to share it with some of my oldest and closest friends.

So far, this summer has been decadent, corpulent, and full of life at its fullest. But, I'm getting ready to be done. A week ago, I ordered a huge load of books from Amazon to make sure I fully enjoy my spare time this summer. When they arrived, I realized that I have no time to read them.

I've scheduled myself so tightly that I don't have enough time get enough sleep, much less hang out with E or read. I'm notorious for doing this. In fact, I looked at the calendar to figure out when it would slow down and was shocked to realize that of the 23 weekends left in the year, I'm out of town for 9 and have plans for 13 others. In other words, I have ONE remaining weekend left this year to stay at home and relax. So, of course, it's now scheduled in as "do-nothing-weekend." In my defense, this seems to be the year that many of my close friends have chosen to marry (with E & I coming in a little on the slow end next spring).

But I think it's funny that I'm looking forward to school starting so I can relax at home and study at night. I know when it's here I'll regret my longing. But right now, after unpacking my travel bag again I feel like multiple serial nights at home with E is a decadent luxury to be cherished, even if I'm reading several hundred pages a night to pay for the privilege.

It's not that I'm not having fun with my current life. Quite the opposite, in fact. I'm having fun like a professional. But I need to realize that I'm not a professional partier or socializer. It drains me and I need to slow down. It's funny how the grass is always greener...

Blessed Quandry

Living in a world of assumptions, I'm wondering what choice I will make if I get an offer from both Firm #1 and Firm #2. I like both. For completely different reasons.

Each one will set me down a very different path in my life and I will regret the opportunities lost behind either door, should I eventually choose to close it.

I wonder what I could have done in my life to deserve such a wonderful problem.

Then I remember that it's not actually my problem yet.

But, still, I can't help but assume and wonder...

The Wonder Spice

Sure, turmeric tastes damn good and appears to have anti-cancer properties.

But that's not all! It also permanently dyes the bristles on your toothbrush. That's right: the yellow-headed sonicare is mine.

So, the clean the fridge out treat of the week was very pretty:

3 Color Fusion

• Dice 3/4 white onion.
  
• Dice 2 roma tomatoes and one red tomato-on-the-vine.
  
• Sautee diced onion in olive oil. Add tomatoes, 1-2 T turmeric and black pepper to taste.
  
• Simmer until slightly soupy so that the base is an orange juice and orange-colored onion bits but the tomatoes are still recognizeable.
  
• Remove tomato salsa mixture and place in a bowl to cool.
  
• Finely dice 4 cloves garlic.
  
• Place garlic in sautee pan, cover with olive oil and simmer on medium heat.
  
• Add 1.5 bunches washed spinach.
  
• Sautee until wilted but slightly firm (in hindsight, perhaps they should have been sauteed until soft).
  
• Remove spinach mixture to a bowl and lightly salt.
  
• Warm corn tortillas.
  
• Place warmed tortillas, the orange/red mixture bowl, and the green mixture bowl to the table at the same time.
  
• Construct wraps by placing a layer of green topped with a layer of orange/red.
  
• Try to eat gracefully.
  
• Admit you can't eat it gracefully and cut into bite-sized bits of colorful goodness with a knife and fork.
  
• Talk about improvements, like baking with cheese (for structural integrity), or adding spiced chicken strips.
  

Really?

35+ hours of direct interaction between the summers and the associates and partners who attend. Lots of alcohol, good food, sponsored activities and, of course, they put us up in very swank rooms at a very swank resort. Overall, the firm retreat was lovely. I had a blast and feel like I know many of the people who attended much better than I did before we left.

The only major negative observation is about my future colleagues and the attitudes that the industry of law is willing to accept from its members. Apparently, it is acceptable for summers and associates to have such a sense of entitlement that they get angry when the free food, activity plans, or alcohol isn't to their liking. And, if they don't like the policy set by the firm, they think it is entirely acceptable to speak ill of servers as they bring the food, or to be rude to bartenders. In all honesty, I find this shocking.

Somehow this subset of the group chose not to see the retreat as a gift. They didn't consider that if they wanted something to accompany or replace any portion of the gift, they could purchase an alternative option. Instead of being appreciative, many of them complained about the free stuff and asked, nay demanded, for alternatives of their choosing (all on the firm, of course).

Realization: I find it hard to enjoy a wonderful environment when I am sharing it with even a few vocal winers/whiners.

I know it's not the firm. It's something about the type of people that want to end up in the practice of BIGLAW. Not all of them, certainly, but definitely some of them feel that the world owes them quite a bit according to their tastes and desires. Sure, it's annoying to be around. But more importantly, I can't imagine how miserable it must be to have your default response to gifts be anger, disappointment, and frustration.

What causes people to look at the world like this?

I couldn't resist

I got some spam today. Or so I thought. But after a careful reading, I determined that the misspellings were legitimate and it really was someone applying for a real job, with a real posting on the internet, which they referenced via the URL in the email. I read the message, and verified that the job application's intended recipient had an email similar to mine.

I opted not to forward it to the intended recipient. Attention to detail being a job qualification and all...

So instead, I replied to the sender, informed them of their mistake and...

Suggested several grammatical edits.

The author was were clearly ESL and qualified for the technical job posting (which happened to be in a field where I've hired people in the past). I thought my suggestions were a nice thing to do, but I enjoyed doing it a bit too much. Also, I thought it was funny. Imagine the surprise on the person's face when they get my reply.

Clearly, I'm a sick, sick, individual.

Do you think I'm going to get a thank you?

Books 12 & 13

So, the quest continues.

Book 12: Charming Billy, by Alice McDermott. D showed up with a rat and a couple of books a few barbeques ago. Fourth of July weekend arrived and I had no books to read. D's book won by default of being in the right place at the right time. So, I read this book, a National Book Award Winner, while relaxing in San Simeon for the holiday. It was good. Full of drama. Typical, really. The kind of book I wouldn't choose to read on my own, but being the kind of person who reads the back of cereal boxes, the kind of book I'd read without reservation if I had no other un-read books on hand. I've read worse on more than one occasion.

Bascialy, it was a sad, painful tale of Irish-American immigrants, alcoholism, catholicism, family, and all the drama therein. Like I said, it was good. I recommend it if you like this genre. It wasn't full of surprises. But it was great for what it was supposed to be. And really, is there any better epitaph? I'd like my tombstone to say "BT was great for what bt was supposed to be." Now, if only I could figure out what bt is supposed to be...

Moving on.

Book 13: The Da Vinci Legacy. This book was another gift from D of nym. But this one was much closer to my legal heart. Apparently, Lewis Perdue wrote this book, the original Leonardo religion thriller, back in the '80s. Then, Dan Brown gained acclaim for the Da Vinci Code and predictable accusations of derivative works ensued. To be fair, I have not yet read Daughter of God, so I am speaking without full knowledge. But, in this reader's opinion, the Da Vinci Code and the Da Vinci Legacy are CLEARLY very different books. Ironically, both belong to the same category in the world of BT -- mindless brain candy, good for killing a Sunday afternoon in a fit of sloth-like indulgence, but not anywhere near the realm of linguistic or literary perfection. Anyways, back to the review. The Da Vinci Legacy took me about 2 days to get through, and much of that short time period is due to the fact that Lewis Perdue drew me in and made me want to keep reading. So, if you're the kind who enjoys an escape full of impossible escapades, a wee bit of romance, and just damn good plot advancement against an excellently researched Italian backdrop, you should go for it. Read the Da Vinci Legacy (and don't forget to read the Da Vinci code for comparison sake!). I was glad that I did and I will be reading the Daughter of God one of these days merely for the pleasure of it. I'll do it even if I find nothing of interest to report to the blog regarding plagiarism.

Oh, and I'm not so sure that this whole working for a living thing is what I'm all about. That is all.

Happy Independence Day

E & I just concluded one of the best Fourth of July celebrations I can remember. Fireworks? Yeah, I've been listening to 'em loudly screaming and booming in the night. But I haven't seen a single one, unless you count the teenager across the street who threw poppers into the street so the cars that drove by would make 'em pop. Normally, the fireworks are a major part of the reason why I sleep with a smile after the 4th. But no, despite the awesome power of explosives, and my full support of a holiday that uses them for entertainment instead of evil, this Fourth was great because of the way it worked out, which somehow involved no staring at flashing light.

See, back in January, E2 and I looked for open campsites where we could camp and celebrate the holiday weekend. As is our norm, we were behind the curve and several of our first choices were already fully booked. Two years prior, E2 & I had gone to washburn campsite in San Simeon. The chemical toilets stank up the entire campground, the fog never cleared, the sites were too close, we were awoken every morning at the ungodly hour that old people think is morning by the sound of their RV generators that were 20 feet away at best on both sides, there were no trees at the campsite, there was only one hike and it wasn't that good, it didn't warm up above 65F the whole weekend, and well, in general, it was suboptimal. Sure, we had fun, because hey--it was vacation, and camping, and with friends--how could we not have fun. But, despite the fun, the other negatives made us cross San Simeon off the list of posssible summer camping destinations.

Never say never though. Because when everything else is booked for July by January, you start to reconsider your options. Damnit, we wanted to camp! So this time, we booked a site at san simeon creek instead of Washburn. This weekend couldn't have been more different than last time. Again, we were right next to the bathrooms (driving from the bay area on on a Friday night means you arive later than the locals and get to check into one of the last available sites), but they were flush toilets that were cleaned daily. And really, when camping, proximity to the toilets is not a bad thing if they don't stink. The building acted as a noise and wind block on that side while we were blessed with trees to block the noise and wind (and provide shade from the sun for E--who's a sun wuss, and doing Georgia proud with a nice red neck after this weekend). Unlike last time, where we had a nice view of the parking lot, the view from this site showed us deep blue ocean, a cliff, and behind us, the gorgeous california foothills. To make sure we enjoyed ourselves, the fog burned off each day around noon and beat the weather forecast by about 10-20 degrees (I'd resigned myself to 60 degree days, it would be worth it to hang out with friends and relax). So, now, I'm dark, full of Vitamin D and just generally happy.

E2 & S/O came as planned. Additionally, D & R (who decided on Thursday to fly up from Southern California--an AWESOME addition to the plans) showed up. We all hung out in the sun during the day, playing bocce ball on the beach, lazing around, drinking beer, wine, soda and water, getting sun burnt, eating gourmet food (car camping) and reading books. Each morning, E & I slept in. And each evening, we all gathered around the fire and talked about everything and nothing.

At the end of the weekend, E & I even managed to fit in a visit to my grandparents and I was happy to see that my papa's anger at the dog is expressed with more vehemence than the last time--clearly he is feeling better.

Overall, I can't imagine a better way to spend the holiday. Friends, sun, beach, bocce, grandparents, reading, sleep, and amazing food (thanks to E2 who did all the shopping and pulled some mad favors from the carniceria). At around $50 per person total for three days including food, lodging, and parking, it was a bargain of a vacation. And yet, despite the low price, in terms of enjoyment, it was high on the list of favorites for the year. Not to mention that there's nothing quite like that first shower after not showering after 3 days of dirt, smoke, smores and grime.

Basically, I feel very lucky to have spent such a wonderfully relaxing and fun weekend with friends who could join me and can't help but think that it's a future payment to compensate me for the weekend of sucktitude that July 4th will most likely be next year while I'm studying for the bar. Oh well. I'm full of good food, relaxed and tan. I'll worry about the bar when I'm actually studying for it. The focus this summer is on fun. So far, so good.